I know many people got some amusement from the following sentence I included in this post about JCPenney a few weeks ago:
The whole mess revolves around the modestly named Martha Stewart Living OMNIMEDIA having a supposedly "exclusive" contract with Macy's to sell her sage green bath towels, sage green cookware, sage green linens, sage green dishes and various other domestic items which may or may not be sage green, but most likely are.
Hearing that the "JCP Everyday," aka Martha Stewart But You're Not Supposed to Know That line of home goods is now on sale in their stores and online, I headed to the website to see just what had been the catalyst for this epic court battle.
I entered JCP EVERYDAY in the search field and, well, this is the very first item that came up:
The basic recipe for a typical summer blockbuster movie is simple: one part story, three parts explosions set to dynamic orchestral music, one part stirring conclusion. Mix, bake and cash massive profits. For those of us who are fans or other entertainment, as well as movies, it has been difficult to watch cultural organizations who are brimming with talent often written off as museum pieces from an earlier era, too slow, plodding and married to the past to connect with the fast-paced demands of a modern audience.
Dance, symphony orchestra and full choir are performance arts that have been particularly hard-hit by the misperception, and some of it is due to a large part of their stock repertoires being, well old. As in powdered wig old. When reading a performance listing that includes Tchaikovsky, Bach or Orff, a good portion of the general public will make snoring noises and demand to hear some Jay-Z. Most of these same people have most likely never even heard any of the music by these "old" composers, much less understand how much power it can contain when presented creatively.
Creative is not a bunch of tuxedo-clad string musicians performing stiffly on stage.
Creative is not a choir concert with the only things moving being the conductor and mouths making "O" shapes.
Creative is not a ballet full of stiff choreography in starched period dress.
The groups started with the timeless cantata Carmina Burana by German composer Carl Orff, a piece that 9 out of 10 people on the street would say sounded stuffy and they have never heard, unless you showed them this, or this, or THIS. Oh THAT, the soundtrack for every ominous and dynamic commercial ever produced. Yes, the famous Oh Fortuna opening and closing sections of the piece, plus all the other meat contained between them, which varies from frenetic, to lyrical to haunting.
Unlike many people, I am somewhat familiar with the music from time spent involved with orchestras, drum corps and color guards, but all that was 25+ years ago, and even I had forgotten most of it until the Ballet and Bach Society forced it back into my head with a velvet sledgehammer.
The performance was in a word, EXPLOSIVE. The choreography was inventive, startling and extremely clever, with much of it being staged at breakneck speed, overflowing with death-defying pass-throughs and dizzying combination spins. This was Iron Man flying between buildings, but without the benefit of his suit.
Most impressive to me was the musicality of the writing. I am often frustrated when dance performances leave music "on the table," so to speak, with a lot of the phrasing and nuance steamrolled over to create a handful of impact moments. Here there were constant passages of delicate interpretation laid over deep foundations, beautifully mimicking the score as portrayed by the musicians and vocalists. In the ultimate compliment, the Ballet respected the magnitude of their effort by shining a visual spotlight on as many of their notes as they could. Suggestions of love, loss and conflict were hinted at just enough to be recognizable.
Mass forms often broke, changed, reformed, splintered apart and were suddenly struck with a sense of absence, leaving just a solo performer to alter the mood before they were swept away by another thematic movement sequence. Transitions, often a weak point in dance, were handled expertly and clarified by a beautifully designed palate of modern, simple costumes and colors. There was just enough. No excess. No shortage.
There was also a lot of skin, and no blockbuster has ever built up demerits for that.
Performers from all three elements, dance, instruments, and vocals worked expertly as team to manipulate the emotions of the audience, pushing, pulling and stringing them along, only to hit them with the bazooka blast of volume and visual cacophony at exactly the right moment. It was one of the strongest collaborations of disciplines that I've seen in a long time. And it was all performed live.
So I liked it, but I can be kind of a longhair (with a bald head), still, this was music written in the 1930's, before television, featuring violins and french horns, sung in German, French and TWO different forms of Latin, interpreted by dancers in tights and delicate slippers. This business is too mothball-infused for the modern world. How would an audience, whom appeared to contain a good number of husbands who were annoyed to miss the golf tournament, react?
By leaping to their feet and screaming before the final note had finished echoing in the livestock barn acoustics of the aged Bob Carr Center.
People went berserk - with shrieks and whistles piercing the air over a deafening, thunderous applause. And it went on, and on, and on. Loud for the corps de ballet, ear splitting for the principals, and an EXTRA air horn level of volume for the choir and orchestra.
Men in pleated pants were whooping at the top of their lungs for baritones and oboe players.
For me it was more than a wonderful afternoon, it was a way forward for struggling cultural organizations. They had provided the story, the explosions and the exciting conclusion, and they had done it by doing what THEY do best. And it worked.
Even before now-former CEO Ron Johnson was shown the door by JCPenney this week, the drama involving the company, Macy's and Martha Stewart had caught my attention – I mean who doesn't like to hear Martha use the term "flabbergasted?" The whole mess revolves around the modestly named Martha Stewart Living OMNIMEDIA having a supposedly "exclusive" contract with Macy's to sell her sage green bath towels, sage green cookware, sage green linens, sage green dishes and various other domestic items which may or may not be sage green, but most likely are.
When Mr. Johnson was recruited from Apple, based on his seemingly amazing work creating their highly successful retail stores, to join Penney's, everyone's favorite source of beige and Mom Jeans, one of his first orders of business was to go after Martha to secure her and her products as the centerpiece for a revamped Home department. Her contract with Macy's? Pffft - no problem! After all he didn't read it and her lawyers felt that they could wiggle around its restrictions if she opened her own stores. The stores in this case would actually be INSIDE the JCPenney, but who worries about little details like that. Surely it would be its own shop, just like the Starbucks in Target is identical to any other Starbucks, even though you can't smell the coffee because of the overwhelming fumes of popcorn and hot dogs from the snack bar next door, nor enjoy the restful coffee house ambiance when the red-shirted managers are screaming for REGISTER BACKUP!! a few feet away.
Not surprisingly, Macy's was not impressed by this argument and used its deep pockets to call up an army of lawyers, whose first order of successful business was getting the judge to ban Penney's from putting in stores or online any of the warehouses full of Martha Stewart sage green items they had already ordered and produced.
What struck me in following all this, is that it seemed like a rather reckless path for this green (though not sage green) CEO to embark on. JCPenney was well-known to be a dowdy, frumpy, bland, plain, Ann Veal sort of an establishment, but it was also profitable. As it turns out, much to the chagrin of self-appointed tastemakers, there is a pretty huge market for bland. Large swaths of the country actually prefer it, so while not setting the balance sheets on fire, Penney's business was firmly in the black.
But Mr. Johnson came from Silicon Valley, where they don't listen to what you want, the tell you what you want and if you disagree, well that's just because you didn't KNOW you want it. Now that attitude can usually work pretty well in the tech industry as no, you probably didn't know you wanted an iPod because you couldn't have dreamed that something more portable than your Discman could possibly exist. But most of what Penney's sells does exist. Underwear exists. Blouses exist. Shoppers, especially women shoppers, may just have developed a preference for the style of bloomers they prefer, or the cut of cabana-wear blouse they find most flattering. If they have been shopping at JCPenney for a while, chances are the chain has kept them well-satisfied in both areas. No doubt some fresh air was needed to attract a supplemental new wave of shoppers, but the stores were already kept humming with loyalists.
It would seem a sensible path would be to enhance what you have while looking to broaden and expand styles, right? NO! said Ron Johnson. Everything was thrown out - the pricing structure, the coupon system, the frequent sales, and FOUR HUNDRED product lines that the stores had carried for years, if not decades. There was the recklessness again, joined by arrogance and a lot of talking, but with one big thing missing:
Listening
In various leadership roles I have had over the years, the thing I learned right away is what you say is not as important as what you hear. Your first order of business is to listen to your people. You can have all sorts of sweeping ideas and strategies in mind, but until you listen to what people say, you will have no clue of what they find important or insights which would give you the tools to bring them along with you on your vision quest. If you dictate or turn a deaf ear to their concerns, you're going to get nowhere fast. You're the boss, you ultimately have the final say, but if those in your charge feel their concerns are not your concerns, you will be fighting upstream against their dissension the entire time, seriously dampening your potential success.
By many accounts, Ron Johnson, in addition to continuing to live in California, rather than move his home to the Dallas-area base of Penney's, might as well have been in a soundproof booth. He went full-steam ahead in throwing out customer favorites and replacing them with hipper styles which were perhaps not too forgiving to the full figure silhouettes of the core shoppers. When people found the new, no-sales pricing to be confusing and felt they were not really getting the value that was advertised, he told them they just needed to learn the system. He said he was going to "retrain women how to shop."
This reminded me of an experience his former company had a while back when it stopped listening to its customers as well. Remember Apple Maps? "You don't need accuracy, Streetview and transit information because we're giving you flyover 3D cities that look totally cool!" Do you know anyone who didn't replace that app with the Google one the moment it came out? Apple is still reeling from it.
Oh boy.
Well, all this definitely did lead to some records being set. JCPenney, a 111-year old company, saw quarterly sales drop nearly 30%. That level of loss had never even been approached before, and is quite an achievement when you think of how difficult it is for an established organization of that size to pull something like that off in the matter of a few months. Funny what happens when you tell your most loyal supporters that they are too fat and too dumpy to shop there.
Why have I found this whole thing so interesting and maddening the past week? It wasn't just customers who were told they weren't wanted while one man selfishly used a historic company as his playpen. The drop in sales caused 20,000 employees to be laid off since he started on the job 17 months ago. TWENTY THOUSAND people shown the door and facing hardship during challenging economic times. No doubt a chunk of them were associates who would greet your question with a vacant stare, but surely many were good workers with years of service, many from smaller areas where they had longtime connections with customers. Customers who didn't show up anymore because of one guy's insistence on speaking instead of listening.
